


Comfortable Enough

by appending_fic



Series: Self Determination - Sidestories [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Friendship/Love, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: Jim is tired, which is the only reason Mordred is letting him use Mordred as a pillow.





	Comfortable Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place roughly after Ch 10 of All the Stars in the Sky. Is it edited? No. Will I do so? Also no.

Jim was tired.

They all were, but he still hadn't gotten the hang of his energy and sleep needs. He'd stayed awake just long enough to eat something (he'd tried some of the leftover pasta carbonara in the refrigerator before gagging and downing the weird, experimental troll food he'd stored in the freezer) before collapsing on the couch, head lolled against the back of it. 

He looked peaceful.

Mordred supposed another person, one who hadn't spent formative parts of their childhood around trolls, would have found the horns and fangs threatening, but Jim's mouth was hanging open, he was drooling, and one of his horns had caught on the blanket draped across the back.

The overall effect was endearing.

Mordred was sitting next to Jim on the couch because, with Jim's mother on shift at the hospital, no one was there to look out for him, and as Mordred had noted.

Jim was tired.

Jim huffed, a small, content sound, and turned his head, resting it against Mordred's shoulder. Mordred didn't move because - Jim was tired. Mordred certainly wouldn't _ask_ for anything like this; Jim was in _mourning_ , and didn't need to deal with this. But if Jim needed comfort, someone nearby, in reach, Mordred wouldn't deny him.

Before he'd died, Mordred might have found himself on edge after only a few moments like this; he'd liked keeping himself busy. After a year of living as Jim's confidante, tutor, and friend, Mordred was more than happy to enjoy a few moments of peace.

It took him ten minutes or so to realize what he'd assumed to be the noise of the street outside was coming from Jim. The quiet rumble wasn't quite a purr, but for trolls, it served much the same purpose. It meant Jim was safe, content.

After too little time, the sound died off.

"Mrdrd?" Jim murmured. "Wh-"

"Your house. You're safe. Your mom's at work."

"Hm. Good." Jim shifted closer, not quite enough to put weight on Mordred, and pressed his forehead gently against Mordred's cheek. He sighed. "Wake me up if you need me."

"O...kay," Mordred replied, holding himself as still as possible. Because he didn't want to disturb Jim, who needed his rest.

And maybe he intended to enjoy the peace, but Mordred's mind began wandering after only a few minutes. It was...nice, being this close to Jim. As much of an adjustment life was, having a _body_ was, Mordred also missed the thin division between their minds, the ability to mingle thoughts when they wanted (and, after a few mortifying incidents, the ability to _separate_ their thoughts when they wanted).

Jim made that rumbling noise again, twisted his head, rubbing the smooth stone of his forehead against Mordred's, and Mordred.

Froze. His heart was pounding, loud enough that he was certain Jim could hear.

Jim didn't have a troll's instincts. He hadn't been socialized in a trollish community. But that little gesture was possibly more intimate among trolls than it was with humans (or had been when Mordred was last alive).

It wasn't something they were talking about, but Mordred was sure, if they did, they'd end up on the same page. Because a troll wouldn't rub their face on someone they didn't feel _very_ affectionate toward, and he was pretty certain humans wouldn't either.

He resolved not to point it out when Jim woke; his friend didn't need to know his subconscious was betraying things he wasn't talking about when he was awake.

Mordred was _fine_ this way. He was alive, and Jim cared enough to keep him here when he was vulnerable. It was more than he'd hoped.

So he closed his eyes and let his mind drift, warm, comfortable there on the Lake's couch, while Jim purred next to him.


End file.
